


The Breaking Point

by 8NightLight8



Series: My Demons and Your Lullaby [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Baggage, Father-Son Relationship, Guilt, Irondad, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Young Peter Parker, spiderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 13:24:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15607224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8NightLight8/pseuds/8NightLight8
Summary: “We have to attack now; the ship’s shield has been destroyed!” Ned’s voice echoed through the room, while the boy struggled with holding the commander ship in one hand and steadying the giant Death Star with another. “Commander Parker, do you copy?”“Copy, General.” Peter replied, his attacker closing in on the round spaceship while shooting invisible laser’s in time with his carefully articulated sounds.The room was wrapped in semi-darkness; the window blinds blocked the weak autumn sunbeams thoroughly and the only real light sources were the glow-in-the-dark stars which were clumsily glued to the ceiling. The mysterious space-like atmosphere was what they aimed for and the two friends were not ones to do things halfway.Everything would be idyllic, Peter thought if it weren’t for the weight resting on his chest.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a part of the series and I highly recommend reading the previous parts first. There is a big time jump between the previous part and this one, so Peter is almost ten years old now.

“We have to attack now; the ship’s shield has been destroyed!” Ned’s voice echoed through the room, while the boy struggled with holding the commander ship in one hand and steadying the giant Death Star with another. “Commander Parker, do you copy?”

“Copy, General.” Peter replied, his attacker closing in on the round spaceship while shooting invisible laser’s in time with his carefully articulated sounds.

The room was wrapped in semi-darkness; the window blinds blocked the weak autumn sunbeams thoroughly and the only real light sources were the glow-in-the-dark stars which were clumsily glued to the ceiling. The mysterious space-like atmosphere was what they aimed for and the two friends were not ones to do things halfway.

Quiet conversation and someone stacking the dishes in the dishwasher could be heard from the living room, but the boys managed to ignore them, even though their nostrils still occasionally flared at the sweet smell of pastry when someone in the kitchen opened the oven.

 _Everything would be idyllic_ , Peter thought if it weren’t for the weight resting on his chest. It has been a tough few months. Ever since he has found his dad puking his guts out into the small lab trash can and the whole place shut down as soon as the kid entered after they returned from their summer holidays in Europe, everything felt different. A dark shadow was present in every one of Tony’s loving looks and his smiles rarely looked spontaneous while he watched Peter swing around the gym with his newly developed web-shooters.

There were days where his dad left breakfast for him in the microwave and didn’t wish him a good day before he left for school. Where he disappeared into his lab for so long that Peter wasn’t even sure if he went to bed at all, since he was there again in the morning with the glass walls darkened and the hidden panel informing the boy that it would only grant him entrance in a case of serious emergency.

Peter knew that nearly everyone noticed something was wrong from the way that Bree waited for him in the lobby even on her free days and from the way that the professors from the interns department asked him more questions in front of the rest of the class than usual, but he refused to talk about it and started to spend the afternoons in the school library. He worked on the newest of his personal projects – a small robot with the ability to learn on his own – on an ancient looking computer and enjoyed getting lost in trivial sci-fi books until the librarian had to go home.

He usually tried to make up something so that Happy wouldn’t be too worried if he would only call him when it was already dark outside, but after he walked all the way to the Tower one evening and his dad didn’t even notice that something was odd, the bodyguard finally had enough. He called Uncle Rhodey.

That was one of the worst nights of Peter’s life. His sensitive ears caught almost every shouted word even after he covered them with more than three thick pillows, there was a lump in his throat and his heart was beating like he was running in a marathon while a tear made its way down one of his cheeks every few seconds. This was all his fault. He should have come home as usual and just spent the afternoon in his room. He should have hidden how he was feeling better… And now Tony had to suffer because of him. Because of his stupid adopted son who couldn’t stand coming second for a few days when his dad needed him to.

He felt scared and tired and lonely. His room had never felt bigger.  

When the shouting finally stopped, Peter’s BB8 alarm clock showed twenty seven minutes past four. The door to one of the guestrooms closed. Then everything was quiet. For almost an hour the only sound that the boy could focus on was the sound of his own screaming heartbeat. And then…

Footsteps.

Slow, hesitant.

His bedroom door handle screeched. Peter closed his eyes quickly and tried to force his breathing to even out, but he probably didn’t do an even partially good enough job.

A pair of knees hit the floor beside his bedside and a trembling hand lingered lightly above his temple, only touching his messy curls.

“I am so, so sorry kiddo.” Tony’s rough voice whispered and Peter could feel his father rest his forehead on the mattress, but couldn’t bring himself to pull him in for a hug. “I am so sorry.”

Peter woke up the next day to the smell of waffles and his uncle standing behind the kitchen counter. His father sat on the couch leaning forward, his face buried into his palms. A packed travel bag lay in front of his feet.

“You are going to Ned’s for the weekend,” his uncle supplied when the boy eyed it carefully. “He just got the new Lego Death Star model and he invited you over.” Rhodey’s voice didn’t waver even when Peter took a stumbling step back.

“I…”

“It’s okay, kiddo.” Tony walked towards him and crouched so that he was looking up at his son’s face. His every move seemed to be extremely tiresome and the bags under his eyes were bigger than Peter’s ever seen them. He took a gentle hold of both of his son’s hands. “I just need some time. I’ve got to do better. I promise you. I will.”

There was a spark in his eyes again. A small, cautious piece of light, but a piece of a flame all the same. Peter slowly brought his father up into the standing position, holding his trembling palms carefully, his eyes searching through his expression, before he let a smile brighten up his face and jumped quickly, wrapping his hands around his father’s neck. Tony caught him instinctively, although his back popped and the boy bathed in the familiarity of what seemed to be lost just a few hours ago.

“I missed you.” He whispered right into his father’s ear, while letting his fingers thread through his hair softly. “I missed you,” he repeated, “but I love you and we are both gonna be okay.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo a little link to My Demons And Your Lullaby there at the end... It's good to see Peter using his father's words to calm him down this time. :D


	2. Chapter 2

Tony’s fingers tremored even while they combed through his son’s messy curls and the soft weight of his son’s head on his lap did nothing to calm his spinning thoughts. They were like a broken record, spinning in circles and tarnishing one of the now rare tranquil moments he shared with Peter. The worry only seemed to really disappear from the kid’s face when he was asleep now, as a pair of big brown eyes watched over Tony every second of the time they spent together. He could tell that the kid was always on guard. He barely even blabbed about what he learned by professor Brown anymore, and he always bit his lips before talking to him, censoring himself for his sake. He never mentioned what happened at the lab almost 2 months ago and never asked why it’s doors stayed locked since Rhodey kicked his ass about a week ago. Peter was going to turn ten in a few days and yet he was acting like a thirty year old caregiver. It was his fault, Tony knew. He messed up. Bad.

 _Alice Wilson,_ his mind provided unhelpfully. _Sex: F_

And they were running out of time. Ross insisted that Peter must decide whether he will sign the accords by the age of fourteen. _That is too soon_ , Tony thought, the sight of the kid smiling wildly while he swung around the gym that morning still imprinted heavily into his mind. It has taken him so long to become comfortable with the powers as a part of him and now he will have to start convincing the kid into signing a deal that would legally bind him to never use them again? It was _too soon,_ but time was just like warm sand slipping through his fingers. Will he have to force Peter to retire at fourteen? Will that be the time when he loses him for good? He closed his eyes for a moment. The Star-Wars movie playing in the background failed to drown out his thoughts.

_Alice Wilson, age of the admission: 7_

When Peter was seven, he couldn’t get through one night without talking to him. He came to his bed for cuddles almost every morning and he always brought one of his creased plushies with him. He needed his attention, his love and his ability to listen. He still didn’t know at what cost he got it all. Should he? Was he entitled to know the other side of the man he decided to call his father?

_~~David Wilson~~ , ~~Miranda Wilson~~_

Yes, he would cross him out of his life in a second if he knew. He was a good kid, after all. Far too good for him. Hell, Tony was difficult as fuck and he would probably do the same in his place. A life without a father is still a life after all. Maybe he could convince Rhodey to sigh some papers… But Peter wanted _him_. And he had to try. He promised. He promised he would do better.

His fingers found a knot and he was forced to take a look at the sleeping boy again. He yearned for the times when he could do so without the guilt eating at his insides. He wondered if he ever could or was he just always really good at pretending.

Peter had grown so much in the last few years. His face was a bit longer now, but it seemed like his eyes were only able to become bigger, more observant. There was no way of distracting him from something that he didn’t want him to see anymore. No way of convincing him that he was okay, when he couldn’t even look at his computer without feeling sick.

Tony sometimes missed the mornings when they used to stay in bed and the nights when the kid would wake him up if he had a nightmare. He missed the clinginess and the excitement and the spontaneous hugs. But everything ends, he knew, including the most magical parts of childhood.

_Alice Wilson, Previous accommodation address: 32 New Avenue, Atlanta, Georgia_

He had taken the kid to Georgia once when he was six. They spent their days swimming in the hotel pool mostly, but managed to squeeze in a few sightseeing trips. The thing Peter was most excited about was the beehive they found near one of the trails and he made the hotel staff look for its owner the next morning. It was an older man named Tod with a crappy pick-up truck and worn out clothes, but he agreed to meet them and answer all of the kid’s burning questions.

Tony wished he had the strength to do that now, when Peter’s questions stayed hidden for his sake and only left his mouth after he badgered him for hours, even after that simplified and shaped with caution. He was losing him already. And it was too soon, too soon. But wasn’t it always bound to happen? Wasn’t he always waiting for that day to come?

_Alice Wilson, Identification number: 307798019_

A picture of a young smiling, brown-haired girl with pigtails appeared in front of his eyes and made him pause for a second.

No, he wasn’t. He wasn’t because he was delusional. He had always though that he could play this, always though that he could manage to escape himself, but he was _wrong_. His last episode proved that.

He was going to lose Peter, no matter what he does. And if the process has started already, he realized, before the message F.R.I.D.A.Y. showed him that dreadful afternoon started to recite itself through his mind again…

He had absolutely nothing to lose.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this piece all in one day and am leaving for the second part of my holidays tomorrow. I just couldn’t stop writing when I started and I am so happy that I managed to finish this and that you guys didn’t have to wait too long for an update. I really, really want to know what your thoughts on this are going to be so please let me know in the comments and come talk to me on Tumblr if you want; my url is 8night-light8. :)


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